


Swings

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Autumn, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Jonerys, Romance, Single Parents, Snow, parenting, playground, pure fluff not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Daenerys is a single mum. Jon is a single dad. When the two of them meet on a playground, can they help falling in love? A Jonerys AU short story with original artwork.





	Swings

..

**Week 1**

The first time Daenerys met Jon, he was shouting at her.

It was a cold morning. The sharp October sun did little to warm up the frozen sand on the playground, and Daenerys was wearing her winter jacket for the first time that year. She had insisted that her son, Aemon, put on his gloves and scarf before leaving home, but he had already taken off both. He now stood atop the slide in nothing but his shoes, jeans and thin jumper, his jacket flung aside to allow him to jump about with more ease.

“If you catch a cold, you’re still going to school,” she reminded him as she picked it up.

Aemon just stuck his tongue out at her. “A king can’t get ill!” he insisted before rushing off toward the swings.

Daenerys shook her head as she seated herself on a nearby bench and started reading her weekly magazine. She was so engrossed in an article about healthy soups that she scarcely noticed Jon before he stood right in front of her.

“You should be ashamed!” he shouted.

She jumped on the spot and looked up at him in bewilderment. “Excuse me?”

“Ashamed!” Jon repeated.

Daenerys took in the sight of the guy before her as she contemplated his words. He looked to be a man in his early thirties. His hair was black and messy, the curls falling down past his ears, and his face was perfectly framed by a thick beard. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was yelling, she might’ve even thought him cute, but his unwarranted attitude caused her to answer in a haughty tone:

“Is that a way to talk to a lady?” She stood up and rolled the magazine between her hands, the glossy pages crinkling beneath her fingertips. As he gawked, she pushed the end of the roll to his chest, staring him down as she continued: “_You _ should be ashamed!”

“Me!” the guy retorted bewildered.

“Yes, you!” she nodded. “Shouting all over the place. What gives you the right?”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes bewildered, before his cheeks started reddening in anger. He pushed the magazine aside and pointed toward the playground. “Is that your son?” he asked.

Daenerys looked toward the swings. Aemon was indeed seated on one of them, his face looking pale as he clung onto the seat. Next to him stood a little girl, her hair long and black. Her bright eyes were watching them intensely. Daenerys looked back at the guy. “What of it?” she asked, neither denying nor confirming his question.

“Well, your son just called my daughter an _ ash-breasted tit-tyrant_!” His cheeks glowed even darker as he spoke, his voice barely contained. “You should be _ ashamed _ of raising such a… a…”

“A what?” Daenerys asked.

Jon huffed: “A foulmouthed child!”

The black-haired girl called: “Dad! You’re being _ stupid._”

Daenerys smirked as Jon’s attitude seemed to deflate at his child’s shouting. He glanced between his daughter and Daenerys. “I am _ not _ being stupid,” he insisted. “Lyanna, you can’t allow boys to call you such things. It is _ wrong._” He waived for his daughter to come closer, and she slowly started making her way over, her own cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

Aemon too made a run for Daenerys as she called: “Did you say that, Aemon? Did you call her a… what was it again?”

“_An ash-breasted tit-tyrant!_” Aemon shouted proudly. He stopped next to her, nodding with excitement before his hands grabbed at her skirt, his eyes peeking at Jon with worry. His voice lowered as he continued: “Mum, am I in trouble?”

“No!” Daenerys assured him.

“Yes!” Jon hissed. He reached out and grabbed around his daughter’s shoulders as she came close. “Her name is Lyanna, boy. It’s not becoming to call girls bad names.”

“It’s not a bad name!” Aemon pouted. “It’s a bird!”

“It is _ what?_” Jon looked between Aemon and Daenerys.

Aemon sighed deeply. “It is a _bird_,” he repeated. “_Anairetes alpinus, _the ash-breasted tit-tyrant. It lives in Peru. It is a threatened species.”

“Why…” Jon licked his lips as he was at a loss for words. “Why would you-”

“Because of my eyes,” Lyanna said and pointed to her face. She tip-toed to give her dad a better look. “They’re green. Did you know it’s believed to be the rarest colour in the _ whole world? _ Aemon told me! I am as rare as that bird!”

Jon scratched his neck as his heartbeat slowed down. He had been ready to fight earlier, but now he just felt humbled. He shyly looked at Daenerys, her lips tugged into a smug smile on her face.

“Yes, Aemon here likes reading about animals,” she said and stroked his hair. “He’s got a keen memory. Once he’s read something, he doesn’t forget it.”

“Is that so,” Jon mumbled, still unsure of what to say.

“Told you Dad,” Lyanna said and rolled her eyes. “You’re being _ stupid._”

“Can I go play?” Aemon asked his mum, looking at her with keen eyes. “We were just about to defeat the evil king!”

“Sure,” Daenerys nodded before looking at Jon. She cocked her head. “Can my _ foul mouthed boy _ play with your sweet Lyanna?” she asked.

“Yes, sure,” Jon spoke, his daughter already running off toward the swings, closely followed by Aemon. He stood watching them for a bit before turning to Daenerys. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt. “It was wrong of me to shout at you.”

“It sure was,” she agreed and crossed her arms. She patted at the air with her magazine as she looked him up and down. “Though I must admit, I like how eager you were to defend your daughter.”

“Well, you must admit, it _ did _ sound like a bad word.”

“Anything that has tits and breasts in its name is kind of asking for trouble,” she smiled.

Jon smiled shyly too. “I suppose that is true.” He reached out his hand. “I’m Jon, by the way.”

She shook it gingerly. “I’m Daenerys.”

“Nice to meet you, Daenerys,” Jon said. “Sorry to have disturbed you.” He gave her a polite nod before trudging off in the direction he had come, seating himself on a bench on the other side of the playground.

Daenerys sat back down, unfolding her magazine as she eyed him with care. “Nice to meet you too,” she spoke to herself.

* * *

**Week 2**

“I would like to formally apologise.”

Daenerys blinked as a shadow fell across her. She closed her magazine and looked up, surprised to find Jon standing before her. “Oh, hello,” she chirped.

It was another cold October morning. Aemon had woken her up before six, insisting that it was time to play. She had not even had a chance to eat breakfast, barely stuffing a slice of toast into Aemon’s mouth before he dragged her off to the playground. She was still bleary eyed and had to blink a few times before she realised that he was handing her a white plastic bag.

“For you,” he said.

Daenerys accepted the bag with a curious look. “What is this?” she asked.

“Just a little something. I hope you like sweets.”

Daenerys peeked inside and smiled. It was a triple pack of donuts, the newest issue of her magazine, and a small, thick book titled, _ Birds of England. _ As she pulled it out, Jon gestured to it and said:

“That one is mainly for Aemon.”

Daenerys put the book back into the bag as she pulled out the donuts instead. “Thank you,” she said, “this is perfect - I never got around to eating breakfast this morning!”

“Then you’ll probably like this,” Jon spoke as he handed her a plastic cup. From the hole, steam slipped into the air, and Daenerys could smell the warm brew.

“You’re an angel,” she said and eagerly grabbed the cup, immediately taking a gulp. The liquid warmed her throat at once, and she sighed with pleasure. “Gods, I don’t care what they say about not accepting treats from strangers - this is worth dying for.”

Jon laughed and sat down on the bench next to her. “Well, it’s not poisoned,” he promised. “That would make a poor apology.” He was holding a cup of his own, his fingertips rubbing the plastic for heat. His eyes sought the playground ahead of them. “Again, I’m sorry to have shouted at you.”

“It’s okay,” Daenerys assured him. She bit down on the edge of the cup as she eyed his face. Last week, she thought he might be cute. This week, she was _ certain _ that he was handsome. There was something appealing about his broody eyes and thin lips, especially as they tugged into a shy smile.

“I’m sure your husband didn’t think it okay,” he said, “when you told him.”

“You know, the whole _ your boyfriend this, your husband that _ is such an old way to fish for information,” Daenerys said and stuck her tongue out at him as he blushed. “I am single.”

“Oh,” Jon spoke and scratched his neck. As he did so, she noted the wedding band on his finger, and her heart sunk a little.

“Seems like you’re not,” she spoke and glanced at the ground. “What does your wife think about you buying donuts for other women?”

For a moment, Jon looked perplexed. It was only as he rested his hand back in his lap that he seemed to notice his own ring. “Oh, that!” she said and spread his fingers as he admired the band. “I mainly wear it for sentimental reasons. Sadly, my wife died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Daenerys said as she glanced toward him. “That must have been hard.”

Jon nodded. “It was hard for me, but more so for Lyanna. She was just old enough to know that something was wrong, but not old enough to understand _ what. _ I’ve had to have many adult conversations with her.” He clenched his jaw as he grimaced. “No child should ever have to go through that.”

“You’re right,” Daenerys spoke and looked toward her own Aemon. He was on the swings once more, chatting away with Lyanna who had climbed onto the seat next to his. They seemed to compete in swinging the highest, their legs reaching far up into the cold, blue sky. “My own husband left me. He never even said goodbye to his son.”

Jon looked at her in awe. “What a jerk.”

“It has been a year, and we’re still fighting our way through the divorce. He denies to see me, always sending some lawyer.” She shook her head with a little smile. “Sorry, I am not sure why I am telling you all this.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to chat without the kids around,” Jon said and sipped his coffee. “Gods know I’ve barely had a moment to myself these past years.”

“Tell me about it. All my conversations these days center around animals. Mainly birds. Truth is, I don’t even _ like _birds!”

Jon laughed: “I’m sorry, I got the completely wrong book then!”

“But the right food,” Daenerys said as she poked open the pack of donuts. She picked the one covered in chocolate and took a bite. “Oh man, these are good. Here, have one.” She handed him the pack.

“No, they’re all for you,” Jon said, although he picked the sugar-dusted donut in the same breath.

“I don’t like eating alone.” She put the last back into the bag as she chewed the dough. “Mhmm. We should do this every week,” she said without thinking, then immediately blushed in regret.

But instead of mocking her, Jon took a bite of his own donut and smiled. “Maybe we should.”

* * *

**Week 5**

For the fourth week in a row, Jon met her that morning with a plastic bag packed with goodies.

Daenerys clapped her hands keenly as she asked: “What did you bring this time?” As he pulled apart the handles to reveal the two small cardboard boxes, she bit her lip in ponder. “What are those?”

“Only the best takeaway breakfasts in town,” Jon spoke proudly. He waited for her to pick a box before opening the other, revealing a complete English breakfast; fat sausages, fried egg, mushrooms and tomatoes swimming in the sauce from the baked beans, a golden piece of toast stuck on top to soak up the liquid.

“Jon, I love you,” Daenerys said as she dug into her own box.

Jon blushed at her words and poked at his sausage with the plastic fork. “Thank you,” he mumbled, unsure of what else to say as Daenerys cluelessly stuffed her mouth with beans.

It was November. Frost covered the lawns, and even Aemon had submitted to his mum’s request of wearing gloves. As he chased Lyanna around the playground, his scarf fluttered in the wind, and Daenerys thought that they looked like the perfect pair of kids - cute and innocent, playful and happy. She sighed and swallowed a piece of the sausage before asking:

“So, how’s work coming along?”

Over the past few weeks, they’d grown closer. Jon had told her all about his work as a mechanic; how he’d set up shop in the outskirts of town, how he’d hired the most useless clerk Tormund who spent all day ignoring the ringing phone to instead stare at his colleague Brienne as she fixed motors. She also knew that Jon’s favourite dish was toad in the hole, something so common that she had laughed when he first told her. But most importantly, she knew that he was not currently seeing anyone.

“Oh, you know - I get some work done in between taking calls and scheduling appointments,” he grimaced. “I really ought to fire Tormund.”

“But you won’t, because you’re too kind,” Daenerys teased and licked her fork.

Jon nodded slowly. “Perhaps, perhaps. What about you - have any interviews lined up?”

Daenerys shook her head sadly. She too had shared her life with Jon; she’d told him about her struggles to find a job since her husband left her. He used to be their sole provider, insisting on her staying at home to take care of Aemon. Now, he didn’t seem to care whether either of them were able to eat. “Nothing yet,” she said, “but I’ll keep looking. It’s all I can do.”

Jon was about to speak as Lyanna called out to him: “Dad!” She waved as her heels dug into the ground, stopping her swing at once. Aemon followed suit, looking between her and Jon as he waited to hear what she had in mind. “Dad, come! We’re having a swinging competition!”

“That sounds amazing!” Jon called back. He looked at Daenerys and rolled his eyes with a grin, and she chuckled and took the box from him.

“I’ll keep these safe,” she said, hungrily eyeing his fried egg,

“Mum, you’re coming too!” Aemon called.

“Am I?”

“Yes! You both need to come, _ right now._”

“He’s a demanding little one,” Jon said as he stood up. He waited for Daenerys to pack their boxes away before walking side by side to the swings.

“Tell me about it,” Daenerys sighed exhausted, but she was one big smile as they reached their kids. “Okay, Aemon, what is this?”

The children slipped down from the swings as they gestured to the seats. “You two are competing!” they announced at once.

“Cool!” Jon said.

“No way!” Daenerys said.

They all turned to look at her in surprise. “You don’t want to play?” Aemon asked.

Jon cocked his head to the side as he took a seat on one of the swings. He smirked: “Scared I’ll win?”

“Scared full stop!” Daenerys said as she crossed her arms. “I once fell off a swing and broke my leg. Imagine! I wouldn’t even be able to take you to the playground.” She cocked her brows at Aemon, and her son’s face whitened.

“That would be _ the worst_,” he gasped.

“How about this,” Jon said and grabbed a hold of the chains. “You race me, Aemon. Whoever goes the highest wins.”

Aemon glanced toward Lyanna as if asking for her approval but, once she gave him a nod, he seated himself eagerly. “Okay!” he said. “I’m going to win!”

“I don’t think so,” Jon spoke boldly and winked at Lyanna: “What do you say? Dad’s gonna win?”

“You’re gonna lose, Dad,” Lyanna spoke simply as she walked around the swings to Daenerys. 

Daenerys hid a grin behind her hand as Jon reddened. “Lovely to get supported by your kid,” he said and stuck his tongue out at her.

Lyanna grimaced and grabbed a hold of Daenerys’ hand. “Let’s cheer for Aemon,” she insisted.

“Oh, I think your dad needs some support too,” Daenerys spoke with a smile.

“Then _ you _ cheer for him!”

With all in agreement, Jon and Aemon set off, running across the ground to get their swings going. Once they were rocking back and forth, they started bending and stretching their legs, both of them trying to get as high as they could.

“Go, Aemon!” Lyanna called.

“Go me!” Jon called back. As he started swinging past Aemon, he glanced toward the boy’s face; it was screwed up in pure concentration, sweat forming alongside the hem of his beanie as he tried to push himself even higher. Once Jon was sure that the boy was too caught up in the race to pay him any attention, he gently let down on his own speed, his swing slowing until he was well lower than the kid.

“Oh no!” he gasped fakely. “I can’t seem to get higher!”

Aemon started laughing, the strained look on his face melting into sheer joy. “I win!” he called. “Mum, I won!”

“You sure did!” Daenerys called back, still holding Lyanna’s hand as the girl jumped up and down with excitement.

“I knew it, Dad! No one can beat Aemon!”

“Guess you were right.” Jon pushed his feet into the ground as he brought his swing to a halt. Lyanna ran over to him and crawled up onto his lap, and he wrapped his arm around her as he pecked her forehead. “Thanks for your support,” he joked.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled brightly.

Aemon, having seen Lyanna move, quickly stopped his swing as well as he waved his mum closer. “Mum, sit down,” he insisted.

“Okay, but I’m not swinging,” she warned him as she took a seat. Once she was settled, Aemon copied Lyanna by crawling into her lap and snuggling close to her chest.

“This is the best,” Aemon said, and Lyanna nodded as she too pressed her face to Jon’s coat.

“This is the best,” she agreed.

As Jon caught Daenerys’ eyes, she too found herself agreeing, _ Yes, this is truly the best. _

* * *

**Week 10**

December. Snow was falling lightly through the air, covering every corner of the park. Jon and Daenerys walked the path side by side, their kids running ahead.

“I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas,” Daenerys spoke and watched as her breath turned to mist before her eyes.

Jon smiled a little. “It seems like only yesterday we met.”

“What, you linger on the memory of shouting at me?” Daenerys asked with a laugh.

Jon blushed slightly. “Not that,” he assured her, “just… I feel as if I’ve known you for ages, but it’s only been two months.” He kicked a bit of snow up into the air as they walked. “It still baffles me.”

“What baffles you?” she asked, cocking her head as he stopped.

He looked at their hands, their fingers almost touching, and he stretched his fingertips to brush them against her palm. “That you’ve been here all along, but we’ve only just met.”

Daenerys blushed and averted his eyes. “Are you turning into a romantic now?” she asked. “It seems unbefitting for a mechanic.”

“Why, because we’re all meant to be rough men who can only speak in two-word sentences, and grunt at women?”

“Yes, exactly,” she teased.

Jon smiled and placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. Snow was falling onto her face, but she didn’t feel cold. Jon’s breath slippered across her skin so hotly she thought she could never be chilly again. “Well, maybe you just need to be educated better,” he said, “and you’ll have the chance. I want you to be my new admin.”

At his words, Daenerys blinked. “Wait, admin? Isn’t that what Tormund is doing right now?”

“He left,” Jon spoke.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you fired him. Not right before Christmas.”

Jon shook his head. “No, he honestly left of his own will. Brienne decided to open her own workshop, and he decided he wanted to follow her.”

“She offered him a job?”

“I’m sure he’ll pester her until she does.” Jon ran his thumb across her cheek, gathering the wetness from the melted snow as he looked into her eyes. “I’m not offering you a job out of pity,” he assured her. “I am offering it to you because I really need someone to help me out. I understand if you don’t want to-”

“Of course I want to!” Daenerys chirped. Surprised at her own outburst, she blushed, and she glanced down as Jon’s thumb crossed her chin. “I mean, I could really do with a job, especially considering the time of year. Aemon wants all sorts of electronic stuff.”

“Remember when we were kids?” Jon asked. “We could entertain ourselves with a stick.”

“I didn’t know you were a kid in the middle ages,” Daenerys said and smiled at him.

Jon smiled back, pushing his hand into her hair before taking a hold of the back of her head. “Daenerys,” he said, his voice suddenly serious, and she blinked at him shyly. “Over these past two months, I’ve really, really come to like you.”

“I’ve really, really come to like you too,” she said, her lips shivering lightly.

“Would you mind-”

“-not at all!”

“-if I kiss you?” Jon licked his lips as she’d already given him her reassurance, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You knew already what I would ask?”

“I’ve hoped you would just do it for weeks now,” she whispered back.

“Well then-” With that, he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

Daenerys took in a deep breath through her nose, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her close. His lips were warm and welcoming, and his kiss so gentle she could almost get lost in the feeling of him. His warmth, his scent, his cheeky tongue poking at her lips-

_ Almost. _ If it hadn’t been for Aemon and Lyanna suddenly throwing snowballs at them.

Daenerys shrieked as snow slipped right down the back of her neck and into her jacket, and she jumped out of Jon’s hold.

Though surprised, Jon couldn’t help but laugh as he saw her dance around on the spot, trying to get the snow out of her jumper. “I think it’ll melt before you get to it!” he grinned.

Daenerys flushed bright red and reached down to pick up a handful of snow. “Don’t just stand there laughing!” she said, “It’s wartime!” With that, she threw she snow right in his face before taking off toward Aemon and Lyanna, the two kids laughing and darting off into the distance.

Jon wiped the snow off his face with a grin. “Oh, I’m coming for you!” he called. He reached down to grab a handful of snow, his eyes falling on his wedding band. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he licked the taste of Daenerys off his lips and slowly stood back up. His fingers closed around the band and he pulled it off his finger, gingerly placing the ring into the pocket of his jacket. He then scooped up a huge load of snow, forming it into a ball as he chased down Daenerys.

“I’m going to get you!” he called.

**Author's Note:**

> WwwowWw guys! Thanks for all the comments on the latest story, your kindness really blew me away! So today I returned to fluff - guess a balance needs to be maintained. Thanks to DragonandDirewolf for the art. I obviously ignored her hint of summer and went with a more seasonal fic. Oh well! Hope it was still enjoyable.


End file.
